Saturday, September 17, 2011

let me down.

"Dreams never die, it's the people who give up on them."

A stranger said that to me once, and it's something I never forgot. I don't have a long story about wanting to be a journalist or a writer. Writing was always something I just did, but never considered myself any good at. I would watch the way that reporters on TV got right in the middle of action and knew what to ask, what to say. To me, that was journalism, and an introvert like me sure wasn't qualified to do it. It wasn't until LJ21 during the second year of college that I really began to understand what I could be as a journalist.

The New York Times recently published an article about what they're calling "generation limbo"--us post-grad twentysomethings who aren't entirely sure what the next stage in life is. The "postponed generation," as the article says. I see it, I do. There are a lot of wanderers out there. But I had a really long talk with Al earlier tonight and she kept reminding me that it didn't matter if I felt like shit, I was doing something amazing. And I don't know. I sometimes feel like I missed out on that "post-grad 'life is shit'" phase that everyone told me there would be. It's like I missed out on some important "coming of age" thing.

But then again...the other interns I've met have left me in awe. Their accomplishments and ambitions are all diverse and incredible. They're so motivated, and even though they don't know what they want for sure in life either, they're running into the future headfirst. "Hey NPR," I want to ask, "did you make a mistake by hiring me too? These guys are so legit."

Al is right--I need to get over the insecurities of not being good enough for anything, anyone, anywhere. I'm fucking here and I worked hard, I should feel good about this. I finished the first week of my dream internship, I'll be moving soon, I'm starting over. Ish. It hasn't been easy or very fun, and as wonderful as work has been this past week, there's a lot weighing on me too that I need to force myself to purge. So this is good--it's painful, but really, it's better.

1 comment:

  1. I'm learning that doing something amazing doesn't always feel amazing. I guess that's where reflection- and, perhaps someday, recognition- comes in. I'm proud to be a friend of yours and you have always inspired me to be a little better and bolder.